Chapter 10 - The Brother I Thought I Knew
Nathan’s hospital room was guarded.
His shoulder had required surgery.
He looked smaller than I remembered.
Not physically.
Morally.
Some people shrink when excuses disappear.
I sat across from him.
He stared through the window.
“Mom says I betrayed her.”
“You did.”
He looked at me.
“So you agree with her?”
“You betrayed everyone.”
His mouth tightened.
“That sounds like Dad.”
“Maybe.”
“He always looked at me like I disappointed him.”
“You poisoned him.”
Nathan looked away.
“I was twenty-three.”
“That isn’t a defense.”
“I know.”
Silence.
Then he said:
“I didn’t know the dose would nearly kill him.”
“You still put something in his tea.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
At least he didn’t lie.
“She told me Dad was going to cut me out.”
“So you poisoned him.”
“I wanted him sick.”
“Why?”
“To delay him.”
“From going to the FBI?”
“Yes.”
I stared at my brother.
“You understand how insane that sounds?”
“Yes.”
“Do you?”
He finally looked at me.
“I’ve had four years to understand it.”
I said nothing.
Nathan continued.
“After Dad recovered, he told me he knew.”
“He knew you poisoned him?”
“He suspected.”
“What did he do?”
“He offered me a chance.”
My throat tightened.
“What chance?”
“To testify with him.”
I hadn’t known.
“He said we could expose Mom together. He said I’d probably go to prison, but maybe not for long.”
Nathan laughed softly.
“I told him he was crazy.”
Three months later, Dad died.
Nathan claimed he hadn’t known my mother and Harrow were planning it.
But that wasn’t the secret he wanted to tell me.
“Dad was conscious after Harrow left.”
I leaned forward.
“What?”
“I was there.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Why?”
“Mom called me.”
Nathan’s voice shook.
“She said Dad was having another episode.”
He swallowed.
“When I got there, he was on the floor.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Did you call 911?”
“No.”
The room went silent.
“Why?”
“Mom told me an ambulance was coming.”
“And?”
“It wasn’t.”
I stared at him.
“How long?”
Nathan’s eyes filled.
“Twenty-two minutes.”
Something inside me went cold.
“You watched him die.”
“Yes.”
“Twenty-two minutes.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He cried then.
Not loudly.
No dramatic collapse.
Just tears sliding down his face.
“Because I was afraid of her.”
I stood.
Nathan looked up.
“I know that’s not enough.”
“No.”
“It’s the truth.”
“No.”
I walked toward the door.
Nathan called after me.
“Daniel.”
I stopped.
“There’s a video.”
I turned.
“What?”
“Dad’s security system.”
“He had cameras?”
“Only in the office hallway.”
My pulse quickened.
“Where is it?”
“Mom thought she destroyed the server.”
“Thought?”
“I copied it.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
Of course.
In my family, conscience always arrived disguised as leverage.
“Where?”
Nathan gave me an account number and password phrase.
Investigators recovered the cloud backup that evening.
The video had no audio.
It didn’t need any.
At 8:14 p.m., Harrow entered my father’s bedroom.
At 8:32, he left.
At 8:36, my mother entered.
At 8:41, Nathan arrived.
At 8:43, my father stumbled into the hallway.
He collapsed.
My mother stood over him.
Nathan knelt.
For twenty-two minutes, no one called emergency services.
Then my father stopped moving.
Only after that did Harrow return.
Only then was a death pronounced.
The footage destroyed my mother’s final legal defense that Harrow acted independently.
Nathan signed a cooperation agreement.
He would plead guilty to conspiracy, poisoning, fraud, obstruction, and his role in Claire’s abduction.
He would testify.
He would spend years in prison.
Maybe decades.
When Claire watched the video, she turned it off before the end.
“You don’t need to see that again,” she said.
“I keep thinking he was waiting for someone to help.”
“He was.”
“And nobody did.”
Claire looked at me.
“You’re helping now.”
“It doesn’t save him.”
“No.”
She touched my hand.
“But justice isn’t time travel.”
I looked at her.
“It doesn’t undo anything.”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
May you like
Claire thought for a moment.
“Making sure the lie doesn’t get the final word.”
